


Off The Beaten Path

by BumbleBeetle



Category: Dominion (TV)
Genre: Archangels, Cutesy, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fatherhood, Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Other, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood, Sad and Happy, Single Parents, Soft!Gabriel, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 11:43:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20446595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BumbleBeetle/pseuds/BumbleBeetle
Summary: In the wake of y/n's passing, Gabriel is left to balance the tricky tightrope that is parenthood alone.





	Off The Beaten Path

**Author's Note:**

> I HAVE NOT GIVEN PERMISSION TO ANY PLATFORM OTHER THAN ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN TO HOST MY WORK. IF THIS WORK IS FOUND ON ANY OUTSIDE THIRD-PARTY APP THEN THEY HAVE STOLEN MY WORK AND ARE USING IT TO PROFIT WITHOUT MY CONSENT.

Gabriel lay back, propped up by his elbows. The breeze kissed his face, tugged at loose fabric. Having exchanged his armor for robes, his hair had grow longer, shaggier, his stubble a somewhat managable beard. Fluffy white shapes meandered below the ridge he'd settled on. By his side lay a walking-stick and rucksack. The edges were red, bloodied from hares he'd caught. His son was running through the flock, bleating mixing with laughter. The archangel's lips lifted, curling into an amused grin.  
Goats pranced behind, bumping the boy with stubby horns. He squealed gleefully, tumbling to the ground. Gabriel saw no need to help, for he was old enough to do it himself. Crickets hummed, the intense afternoon heat creating a shimmery haze. He squinted against the waning light, neck warm underneath scarf-wrappings.  
Ezra was short due to prematurity, baby fat stubbornly clinging, making him a bit rounder than others his age. His features were a mix of both parents, from the way his nose crinkled, to the curls he sported, and the dimples in his cheeks.

Clambering up the steep incline, Ezra gravitated close, giggling. The crunch of dry grasses had alerted Gabriel, rousing him from drowsy slumber. The boy clutched a daisy crown, thin white petals lost in his tunic. Beaming, he thrust them - stems and all - into the angel's hands, extremely proud of himself.  
"For me?" Gabriel asked, a slow smile spreading. Ezra nodded vigorously in response. Murmuring thanks in the angel-tongue, he then stood, slipping on sun-warmed sandals. Producing a handful of dates from his pocket as a treat, his child took to them eagerly, the chewy, caramel-tasting fruit clutched between chubby fingers.  
Picking their way across tree-spotted plains, the midwest felt more like home than the coast and mountains ever did.

Interrupted by a sharp tug, Gabriel took note of his son's stiff posture and the way his shoulders tensed. A main stretch of weed-choked roadway split their trail, dust billowing behind an olive-tinted truck. It had likely come from the west, as the headlights faced eastward.  
The windshield was too dark to see who the driver was, and from the looks of it, they hadn't planned on stopping — or slowing down. Bleating and the faint beat of hooves caused the flock beyond to scatter, ewes and young splitting into smaller groups.  
On the hood, Vega's symbol reigned supreme, a glimmering silvery-white "V" adorned with wings. Panic gripped the archangel's heart. _A patrol? At this hour? Would they recognize him? Would they recognize his son?_

Time slowed to a crawl, the sun's reflection glinting off darkened windows. A chill rippled down the angel's back, at eye-level with whoever was driving. Gabriel hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until the vehicle passed. Ezra ducked behind his father's legs, face tucked in his coat. Both watched as it disappeared beyond the horizon, visibly relaxing. The boy then peeked out, sparing a glance upwards.

  
"Ez. Go. Herd the sheep back to me. Be wary, be mindful. And keep near, if you can." Gabriel spoke under his breath. The boy nodded, doing as his father had commanded. By the time he'd finished, dusk had fallen. The indigo sky was speckled with silver, pink and orange bleeding together.

_Night had finally laid claim to the day's heat, chilling it, and them, to the bone. _

* * *

Lifting a drowsy Ezra into one arm, Gabriel held his son close. Walking-stick abandoned, and their pack around his waist, he didn't mind extra weight. Instead, he focused on combing his fingers through the boy's unruly hair. A light kiss was pressed to his forehead, lulled into slumber by ancient hymns.

Coming over the next few hills, Gabriel smiles.

_Home. Their home._

Tiny, built from the land. Constructed from sun-baked mud and grasses, flexible saplings support the ceiling. Cloth hung down, a makeshift door, swaying in warm night air. _Since his eyrie's destruction, he'd allowed the elements to retake it. Casting off advanced tech and machinery for simpler means._

The ground floor contained a kitchen area and table. First level had beds, a single window to stargaze, and oil lamps. A short stairway led to the roof. Outside pens were connected to keep out predators and keep in prey.   
There was also a well to draw water, worked by hand with rope and pail.

Passing under, tassels drag at his clothing. Dropping the bag, the archangel ascended. Stair by stair, carefully. Ducking, he shifted, cupping Ezra's head to lay him down. By then, the boy was snoring. Pulling a blanket over, Gabriel's expression grew kinder - a tender one.   
Seated on the edge, his thumb strokes Ezra's cheek. _He truly was blessed._

Rising, the lamp is blown out, and all is shrouded in darkness. Warm embers cast an orange-red glow halfway up, shadows dancing.

He heads down, sparing a last glance over his shoulder.

Outside, the beat of wings grows nearer. He knows the sound, and his gut twists. Apprehension and elation a strange mix. Setting to cut chunks of meat for stews, he ignores his houseguest. Flames crackle, devouring kindling he nudges into the kiln. Sleeves are rolled up, a knife selected. Metal gleams. His hands are once again drenched in blood - but not those of his foes. 

The steady chop is interrupted. By _her_ voice. Soft, melodic, harboring amusement. Jet-black hair frames a fiercely angular face, with small, hooded eyes, and a narrow nose. Her grin splits wide. 

"I thought you'd given up on primitive ways, younger brother."

He bites his tongue, tempted to reply with vitriol. _It'd be best if you left us_, he thinks. 

"Am I to take your silence as an answer?" 

He sighs. "Are you here to beleaguer me over Michael's barbarity, Raphael? Or insufferably pester your nephew? He's above, asleep. You will have time to give your welcomings at dawn." 

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are appreciated! ❤


End file.
